


and we all fall down

by Crystallinee



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to (Less) Enemies, Enemies to Enemies, Existential Crisis, F/M, Older Number Five, Tension, Time Travel, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Younger Number Five, no beta we die like ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:35:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystallinee/pseuds/Crystallinee
Summary: She's just a little angry girl and he's an assassin who's never lost to anyone. It shouldn't be this hard. But he has seen that madness before; he knows it in himself."Tired yet, old man?" Lila rasps, her lips drawn back.Five grins back at her, all teeth. He'll play her game.- Lila goes back to 1993.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Lila Pitts
Comments: 8
Kudos: 48





	and we all fall down

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic because I'm very intrigued by the tension/dynamic between Five and Lila, as two adults with a similar moral standing - an intriguing character study and concept. The "ship" moments in this fic are mostly in the subtext, and you don't need to ship them to read this fic - but if the whole idea of their dynamic irks you, this is not the fic for you.

There in the hollow barn, Five's voice slips into a softer note. He tries to reason with her, just to save his own life; he tells her things that hover in the edges of her consciousness like a dark, toothed monster. As if there is anything real in those eyes. Honesty, maybe, but never regret.

He has just opened the whole wide abyss in front of Lila's feet, a bottomless pit. But somehow, inside the silence of her ribcage, she knows. She knows that he has given her something. What he says rings true. He might be a liar through and through, rotten to the core, but he is not lying to her now. People are rarely untruthful when they're standing on the edge.

There is nothing left inside of her chest, the abyss is gaping at her wide and deep, reaching into the far core of the hollow Earth. She wants to see him bleed. She'll tear him apart and wipe that grin from his face once and for all.

Even now, he's keeping all his focus on her, for once watching her without that infuriatingly smug sneer that she always dodges, more or less gracefully.

"That's why you're not cut out to be an assassin," he says, and there it is. She sees red. He has to stick the knife in and twist it thoroughly. She imagines slitting his throat just to show him how a proficient one she can be.

She has to make it personal, and she will make it all about him.

His eyes are firmly focused on her, his air of confidence has dissolved, his movements lack their usual skilled finesse and precision. He's tired and acting on pure raw instinct, and he's losing.

She knows why. He's always watching her so intently. Knowing she has all of the infamous Number Five's attention just by being close to him, makes a sense of power swell in her chest like pride. He can never relax when they're in the same room, he's always calculating the threat she poses.

The haze grows stronger, making her lips twist into a grimace. The abyss is still swaying in front of her eyes and on the other side is the figure of a teenage boy with hunched shoulders, breathing hard, speckles of blood on his face, his eyes burning into hers.

She watches his mouth, devoid of all its pride, determined, weary.

They're interrupted by his siblings and suddenly all her bloodlust runs off her, the abyss swallows her whole and all she can think about are countless, senseless _could have been_ and knowing that Five is not lying to her. Diego looks her in the eyes, his voice is firm and soft and almost enough to calm her down, but it's too late. She can't look at him, can't listen to him or his stupid siblings, she can't focus on anything else but the ringing sound in her ears.

Standing further away among his siblings, Five is still focused on her, leaning slightly forward.

She spots her ex-mother's briefcase on the ground, and she grasps it, her only lifeline.

* * *

She arrives on a rainy, dark street in the outskirts of London, a place she doesn't remember.

1993.

She's numb; there is nothing inside of her left to let out and she walks through the streets quickly. How much time has passed is unclear; when time-traveling one gradually loses their grip of the passage of time, the total time spent in existence turns hazy. She has found out where she lived back then, through people in the Commission.

Eventually, she finds the house and stops outside, staring at the door, the bright orange bricks in the walls. She's focused, but her hands are trembling. Inside is a small girl who has been hidden away in a space in the wall, to protect her from intruders. Inside are her real parents, breathing.

And soon, an armed man will arrive.

There are many ways in which things could go wrong: she could potentially erase her entire existence or everything she knows. If she kills the Handler, she will never be adopted and never learn to use her powers or fight properly, never encounter any of the Hargreeves. She has considered it, and at first she was ready to sacrifice everything for that. But if she did, she would not be able to protect her family if anything ever went wrong.

If she kills the assassin, however, the world would be a better place. All she needs to do is to get her parents to safety. They will have to live without their daughter for a few years, but she'll come back and explain eventually.

She sneaks into the house, walks around the rooms on the top floor and tries to remember. The numbness is still keeping her focused. She is here for her parents, not sentimentality.

She enters the master bedroom, but they are not there, so she rushes downstairs to find them tied up with their arms behind their back, lying on the floor. They turn their faces against her, eyes wide.

She looks at her mother and father, who doesn't know her.

Behind them, shadowed in the far end of the room, a man is standing. Something jolts through her body when she looks into his eyes and recognizes him. He's _elderly_ , she realizes, _he was an old man all along_. He's wearing an expensive grey suit, holding ropes in his hand and a gun in the other.

For a moment they just stare at each other, but those dark eyes are the same. She would recognize them anywhere.

He makes a sudden movement, electricity buzzing, and she's colliding with him, having jumped forward at the same time. She ends up right in front of him, blocking his way and staring at his aging face. Her body is almost pressed up against his.

"Don't move," Lila snarls, pressing a knife to his throat, but he's not making any move to fight her off. He's calm, watching her without any particular emotion. 

"If you kill them, the timeline will be ruined," she says, intensity lacing every syllable. "Let them live. AJ Carmichael never issued this kill order."

She catches the minimal widening of his eyes at first, but he's good at masking his surprise. If she slit his throat open now, it would all be different. The urge scorches her, to do away with him and _make it hurt_.

"It won't make any difference," he replies, matter-of-factly. _Never personal._ "They die either way, in one way or another."

"Why?" Lila asks, baring her teeth. "They are not a threat to the timeline."

He nods at something behind her and Lila turns around, still close enough to feel his body heat. The Handler steps into the room in all her costumed flair, high heels and carefully curled hair, and she doesn't even look down as she fires two shots. The blood turns to ice in Lila's veins.

"I'm surprised it took you this long, Five," the Handler drawls, the same amusement lingering in her tone.

Five grumbles something under his breath, she can feel the aversion radiate off him.

The woman Lila once called mother pays her no attention, bending her knees and opening the small door in the wall like a child on Christmas Eve opening her gifts. Lila watches her usher a small girl out of it. A child who suddenly has _no one_.

Lila's legs feel unsteady, her breathing quickens and her skin starts to itch. She turns around in a sudden panic, knowing she can't just stand there and mess her timeline up, and she comes face to face with Number Five again.

He's watching her with a new, curious expression. She's never seen him look at her without open or barely masked hostility before, and it's a quite strange feeling. He casts a glance at the small girl and then looks back at Lila, and she sees in his expression that he understands. Maybe he has encountered this kind of thing before, or he's just figured it out. Either way, it doesn't matter.

She turns, jumps out of the room, and runs down the street. When her legs feel close to giving out, she leans against the wall of a neat garage and dry heaves. She still has the briefcase hidden away in a safe place, she could go back and try again. But the man will always be there, either a spectator or culprit, she'll never get rid of him. She should kill the Handler instead, but she knows her ex-mother is not easily ambushed. Lila could stop existing altogether and she is not ready to do that.

She stares at her hands until her grip is firm again.

She returns to 2019 a time later, it could have been days, maybe weeks. Time has lost all its meaning, it's all just a flow of space that never stops. It doesn't take her long to locate the Hargreeves' mansion and she doesn't have time for detours with her past. She swallows that part of her memory and remembers that there is always leverage to use for later. The basics of getting what you want, is to take what means the most to someone else. 

Oh, she'll remember that.

Eventually, she finds Number Five, in his present-day self, still taking on that ridiculous disguise of a teenager.

She has come to end his sad life, once and for all.

 _Maybe, he's the only one left who knows who you are._ The chiding voice in the back of her head sounds too much like the woman she can't think about, and she ignores it the best she can.

* * *

When Lila shows up at the mansion in the dead of night, Five has been waiting for her.

"I knew you'd show up eventually," he says as a way of greeting.

"Miss me?" she replies. She's grinning, teeth bared as if she wants to tear right through him, and she's fast – but she can't match his speed.

They tumble around each other in their deadly dance, he's chasing her down and she laughs coldly at him as his hands choke thin air.

She's just a little angry girl and he's an assassin who's never lost to anyone. It shouldn't be this hard. He's never encountered anyone who's left him out of breath like this before, but she matches every one of his moves with furious intent. She can't surprise him now when his siblings are not around, there's no other power for her to mirror. It will just take more of his time and energy to finally finish her off.

"Tired yet, old man?" Lila rasps, lips drawn back. "Don't wanna break a hip."

He grins back at her, all teeth. He'll play her game.

She's determined, he'll give her that. She's not better than Diego in that regard, letting her emotions cloud her judgment. He doesn't _care_ about her vengeance, there is no time for that in this timeline.

"You know," he says in a moment when he allows himself to catch his breath. "That rage is not gonna sustain you for long. It takes more than that to survive."

"Watch me," she snarls before she's coming at him again and he blocks her kicks, landing a hard blow on her leg. He likes her determination. She can't win, but she can try if she wants to.

Then she grabs him from behind, her arms wounds tightly around his neck and chokes him out – she's gotten better. He kicks back at her body while she pushes him to the floor. He knows how to get out of a chokehold in his sleep, but she manages to hold him until he feels the blade of a knife pressed against his throat. Five almost rolls his eyes.

For a moment they're frozen in a stalemate. Her body clings to his from behind, pressing the blade into his skin with a force that tells him it's not for show.

"I went back," she says. He's surprised by her willingness to initiate conversation as she's about to cut open his jugular vein, but he plays along. "I went back to that night."

"And what did you find?" Five leers back at her.

Like expected, the blade is pressed harder into his throat, and warmth trickles down his skin. He feels some kind of morbid curiosity - how much did she manage to screw up her own timeline? He does remember her, the young woman standing there in the dark kitchen, eyes wide, a striking resemblance to the couple whose blood soaked into his shoes. He already knows the answer.

He's uncomfortably aware that her legs are wrapped around his waist from behind, hard. Her free hand runs across the front of his chest. Even as her arm presses his head upwards and almost chokes him, a slight shiver rushes through him.

Her fingertips brush against the hem of his shirt. She's taking after her pseudo-mother - what a surprise. For a moment he wonders how far she'll take it. He would like to see her try, but she's too close to his trachea.

He takes another breath. "Changing the timeline is not as easy as you think. There's always a price to pay."

Using the distraction of his words, he moves from her grip with one sudden movement and spins her around. She crashes into the floor with a satisfying sound. The knife lands with a sharp thud, but he doesn't need it.

They end up like they did that other time. This time her sociopathic pseudo-mother is not here to interfere, and he prides himself on always following through on his commitments.

Even with his shoe on top of her throat, knowing how easy it would be to push down and crush her windpipe with one firm movement, something makes him stop. Killing her would be the easiest thing, but she's grinning at him again, even though no one is coming to save her. It's not due to loyalty to Diego - he'll have to get over it. But there is something else reflecting in her face.

He's seen that madness before; he knows it in himself.

"And what is that price to pay?" Lila asks, her voice raspy.

He looks into the depth of her eyes for a moment, her pupils are blown wide and pitch black.

"You lose yourself," he points out. "Your plan wasn't gonna work, by the way."

He withdraws from her, slowly, picking up the knife and pocketing it.

She sits up, lips still curled into something feral.

He knows it too well.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are very appreciated!


End file.
